Blod, så rødt som rosenblade
by the-pony-wizard
Summary: North Ireland tugged the door open in time to see him drop the knife. Blood flecked the walls and covered the ground. Deep incisions in his arms showed where the blood was pouring from. "Blod, så rødt som rosenblade..." He whispered. His once bright blue eyes looked dull and lifeless, like the metallic blade he had just used. Ireland didn't know what to do. (DenmarkxOC)


HI. FOR ERIN. HOPE YOU LIKE.

NORTH IRELAND IS A GIRL. NAMED ERIN. (LOLOLOL)

YES. I WENT THERE.

I THOUGHT YOU WOULD KNOW THIS... BUT I DONT OWN HETALIA. RATED T/M FOR MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED/SELF HARM AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS.

HEH HEH~

She shouldnt be doing this. Why was she doing this? She didnt know. She shouldnt be here. They were enemies. Rivals. She shouldnt be here.

But she was. And she didnt know why.

Denmark and North Ireland HATED each other. So it made no sense for her to come visit. Sure, Denmark was becoming more and more depressed, and less like himself, but SHE SHOULDNT BE HERE.

Oh well. She was at the door. There was no turning back now.

North Ireland took a deep breath and quietly knocked. There was no answer. She knocked again. This time, louder.

Again. No answer. The Celtic nervously chewed her lip. What did she do? Well, she was already here. Might as well go in.

Little did she know, she would forever cherish her decision to do so.

Erin slowly pushed the door open. The house was silent. She peered around every corner. The kitchen was immaculate. There was a plate of Danish Pastries with a note next to them.

Not wanting to pry any more, she left the note and continued on. The living room was completely clean. There was another note. She walked by it again, but her curiosity was growing. She had never pegged the Dane as a note leaving type...

Unless he wouldnt be there to deliver the message himself.

It slowly began to sink in. Her beautiful olive green eyes widened as she realized what Denmark was planning to do. Completely disregarding any of his privacy, she raced up the stairs and began looking into rooms.

She couldnt let him do this.

The very last room in the last hall. North Ireland didnt even hesitate to kick it open.

And find it empty.

She almost began sobbing. No. He had to be here!

Then she heard it.

The slightest whisper of metal against skin.

"Denmark...?" She whispered. Her voice sounded so forlorn in the cold room. She stepped forward.

Was... was the bathroom door open? Yes, yes it was, and the lights were on! There still might be hope!

Erin tugged the door open in time to see him drop the knife. Blood flecked the walls and covered the ground. Deep incisions in his arms showed where the blood was pouring from.

"Blod, s r dt som rosenblade*..." He whispered. His once bright blue eyes looked dull and lifeless, like the metalic blade he had just used.

Ireland didnt know what to do. Here, Denmark was cutting himself, probably attempting suicide.

And she was helpless.

But then her resolve strengthened. No, she wouldnt give in. She was going to save Denmark, whether he WANTED IT OR NOT.

Erin dropped to her knees next to him and peeled his hands from his face. She didnt really remember him placing them there.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" The desperation in her voice was making her accent thicken.

"No one wants me." Ireland had to lean closer to catch his words. He was normally so loud.

"Everyone's left me. No one can stand me. Even Finland doesnt talk to me. Only Sealand will, and Sweden is refusing to let him hang out any more. Norway despises me. I see that now." Denmark turned his soulless blue eyes to the startled brunette.

"Why should i continue living if i have no one to do so with me?" North Ireland couldnt beleive this was coming from Denmark. He had always been so optimistic.

"No one wants me around any more..." The blonde turned his head away and buried it in his hands as he continued bleeding.

Ireland swallowed hard and placed a hand on his shoulder. She flinched when he stiffened but refused to move it. She swallowed again.

"I want you around." She whispered. She closed her eyes as he began to turn his head to face her.

"I know that we've been rivals. Enemies. For years now. But," She swallowed hard. Why did she have to tell him so soon? "I've always admired you. Liked you. When everyone left you, you stayed strong." She heard a choked sob but kept talking.

"I could never understand why. I mean, you were so alone. And yet it was like you still were surrounded by friends and family. I began to enjoy simply seeing you. Even though we 'hated each other', i knew every spiteful glare i threw your way i could somehow make up to you. I figured some day i could confess the 'horrible feelings' that were growing on me. And," North Ireland opened her eyes to the ones of her tortoured 'friend'.

"Today is finally the day." She grasped his face lightly with her hands and gently touched her lips to his.

She could barely think. She didnt want to. Oh, how she wanted to enjoy this moment. But she couldnt think. She couldnt tell herself to remember this moment.

She only registered that he was kissing back. He was kissing back!

Every so gently, carefully, she pressed into it.

How terrified she was of being rejected. But that fear couldnt compare when Denmark suddenly went limp in her arms. She looked down to see the pool of blood around them had grown. Grown to a size that said that Denmark had lost so much blood, too much blood. But Ireland was stubborn.

She heaved Denmark up, who was extremely and surprisingly light, and leaned him over the bathtub. She knew she had to stop the bleeding.

She washed most of the blood off his arms and then set him back down.

Rifling through her small hip pack, she finally found the potion Romania had made for her. She pulled out the curealeaun dust and sprinkled it over the cuts up and down and all over his arms and forearms. Then she quickly pulled the bandages out of the medecine cabinet above the sink and painstakingly wrapped his arms.

Without feeling the tiniest twinge of guilt, she went into his room and grabbed a T-shirt and sweat pants. They were clean, they would do.

She returned and forced herself to slowly remove the blood soaked shirt from him. Then she took a wet towel and wiped any blood off him. It was there, on his chest, she found thousands of silver scars.

The place no one would ever see them,\.

She did the same for his legs, and since his boxers were clean, she left them on. Then she redressed him.

"Oh Denmark..." She sighed, looking at the pale Dane. He looked so peaceful unconcious. "What am i going to do with you?"

She carefully, oh so carefully, hooked her arms under his and his knees, and went slowly, oh so slowly, out into the hall and down into the living room. She set him down on a couch, grabbed a pillow and blanket,  
and made sure he would be comfortable.

She stepped back into the kitchen.

She had an important call to make.

~Blod, s r dt som rosenblade~

It took Norway and the rest of the Nordic's forty five minutes to get there. North Ireland managed to shower, change, and put up her hair, and practice her speech in that time.

But when they walked through the door she forgot everything.

Everything except for the metal blade sliding through the skin of the Dane, the blood spotting EVERYTHING, the hopeless look in the blonde's eyes.

Everything except that.

But she was going to stay calm, she was going to be ladylike and civil about this...

"What the fucking ifreann* is you guys's problems?!" Yep. ladylike and civil.

Hey, atleast she didnt punch them! Some of England's training paid off.

Norway just looked at her. Then he looked at the Dane asleep on the couch.

A look slid across his face. Contempt, almost.

"He always was lazy." Did those words just come out of Norway's mouth? Really?

To hell with being ladylike.

North Ireland marched right up to the expressionless Nation and slapped him as hard as she could.

And she could slap PRETTY DAMN HARD.

Norway just stared at her with shock on his normally blank face.

"How dare you!" She seethed. You know how people said, if you were angry enough, you could see red?

Well, North Ireland DEFENITELY was seeing red.

"How dare you, leave him, bring him down, and then come back here with the nerve to call him lazy?" Ireland turned and stamped over to Denmark before tugging the blankets up enough to show his bandaged arms.

"Ever seen someone attempt to kill themself? No?" She heard Finland gasp. "Well, i hadnt either, until today!" The brunette dropped the quilt and stalked back up to the shocked Nordic's.

"Thanks to you assholes," She snarled. "Denmark almost commited suicide. Without me, he would have succeeded. Tell me, have you ever had to bury someone before? Well YOU WOULD HAVE."

Erin felt her rage slowly sink away. Replaced by sadness. By dissapointment. "How could you?" She choked out. She didnt wait for an answer, but one came anyway.

"We...we had no idea..." Ireland looked up to Finland's eyes swimming with tears. They were trained on the pale man on the couch. The olive eyed woman felt a sudden spurt of anger and stepped in his way of vision.

"Leave." Her voice was ice cold. It held no trace of her past optimism and happiness.

"Leave now." She knew they would object. So she didnt give them a chance to. She shoved them back out the door and slammed it shut. She didnt want Denmark waking up to them.

She suddenly felt exhausted. What was Erin going to do?

North Ireland didnt know how long she sat there. She only knew it was hours later when Denmark began stirring.

She leapt to her feet from her spot on the floor and hurried to his side. He blurrily looked at her.

"Wha... Ireland? Nordirland?*" North Ireland forced a smile onto her freckled face.

She didnt tell Denmark anything. She simply squeezed onto the couch next to him as he remembered everything.

She again lost track of time. It was a pleasant surprise when she felt Matthias' arms wrap around her and hold her tightly.

"Thank you..." He whispered, raising goose bumps on her neck. "Tak s , s meget...*"

But the goose bumps were pleasant ones.

~(A/N)~

*Blod, s r dt som rosenblade- Blood as red as rose petals (Danish)

*Fucking ifrean- fucking hell (Irish)

*Tak s , s meget- Thank you so, so much (Danish)

I felt so good writing this, but when i didnt finish it one night i was uber depressed the next day.

Oh yeah, North Ireland is like an OC or some junk i didnt create. Hope i portrayed her right!

Luv ya all~ 


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